Milton Called, He Wants His Stapler Back

My work life has taken an odd turn into the classic film Office Space this week, and this Barista is ovah it. 

Examples – I have four bosses.  FOUR.  I love a good reorg that results in less efficiency.  My hand to God, I now receive each and every meaningless email five times.  Yes, five.   First the original email, and then four more come galloping behind it with the all-inclusive stamps FYI, fyi, here you go, F.Y.I.

I received a lengthy voicemail about how my lack of administration has lead to a disruption in administration processing of the administrative benefits that the caller would like administrated formally right now so could I please correct my attention to administrative administration at once….I listened to all thirteen minutes of gibberish to find out the geeked-out caller had the wrong number.  Too bad; he had me looking forward to the ensuing legal action he was about to bring down on my administrative head.

Not a wrong number?  The dude who phone bombed me at 6:20 am to tell me how much he hates my company.  I think I said “right on” and “you’re completely ridiculous” and “do some more drugs but don’t call me ever again” before I hung up on him.  Note to readers – I am thinking of starting a whole category called FMB (F&$! My BlackBerry) where you can also share stories about when your work phone rings and interrupts your sleep, boozing or sexy times…

I was not invited to the department cry fest  birthday club/farewell party for some uber-important peeps who are just switching offices during the aforementioned reorg.  Real tears were shed to see coworkers move down one floor.  It’s probably for the best that I did not get that email five times as I cannot handle awkward displays of emotion.  But dammit, I was promised a piece of cake and I did not receive my cake!!!  This is a definite downgrade from when I first joined Steal Your Soul, Inc. and was told that I could not have the piece of cake with the icing flower on it, as those were given to employees with the most seniority.  I should have quit right then knowing that my hard work will never be rewarded with anything more than a piece of cake with gobs of icing.  Blue teeth in the office?  That’s the mark of the beast power, bitches.

Gotta run – Boss numero uno needs help with a TPS report.

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One thought on “Milton Called, He Wants His Stapler Back

  1. Y’all are the Ed Hardy wearing Gingers of Steal Your Soul, Inc. Wish you could have made it though. Nothing goes better with awkward than cake and tears!

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